Double Edged
by Clev
Summary: In the past as Rumple fights to find his son and set a curse in motion he is unaware that his actions are nothing more then steps in a plot that a great evil has spent years concocting. While in the present day town of Storybrook Maine the guardian, believer,and the savoir must work together to remove the curses, slay this great evil who ever it is, and all before time runs out. Au
1. Prologue

**I decided to upload this story again after taking it down because I realized it was proving to be way too difficult switching from third person past tense to first person present tense every other chapter. So while the story will remain the same I have decided to write everything in the same tense which is third person past tense. Because as I have figured out from working on one of my other stories which is really popular and well written according to the review I have gotten from it. Secondly because it is the easiest way for me to write. This of course means I just have to go back and edit some of the earlier chapter I have while some of the later chapters were kind of written in a first person view any way they just need some tweeking. Here's hoping this will allow me to get updates done faster and farther into my story which I am excited to tell. Even though it is a major Au in every sense of the word, but I hope you will enjoy the ride as you encounter familiar characters from the show with a different twist, and some new characters as well.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own OUAT and make no profit from this. I just own this story and plot. **

**Plot: What if there was more than one curse then the one cast by Rumpelstiltskin on the residence of storybrooke. Thousands of years ago three brothers pledge their loyalty to one another before disaster befell them and tarnished their bond forever, sending the Enchanted forest into its present area overtaken by Ogre's. In the past as Rumple fights to find his son and set a curse in motion he is unaware that his actions are nothing more then steps in a plot that a great evil has spent years concocting. While in the present day town of Storybrook Maine ****the guardian, believer,and the savoir must work together to remove the curses, slay this great evil who ever it is, and all before time runs out. In this game of chess that they cannot afford to lose. **

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To set them all free from their cursed fate,

Four curses must you first break.

One is the darkness with a trickster's tongue,

Two is the feline with the mark on his hand.

Three is the brother with a double face,

Four are those trapped in a far off land.

"Don't worry you're safe," were the last words the Baelfire heard before he turned and fled the horrific scene that was standing before him and what had once been his shambled down home. However, with that monster back there who had taken his father from him; the hut no longer felt like home to the boy. Thus, without a second thought Baelfire ran for his life through the forest while tree branches scratched against his face. He had to get away; he couldn't stay back there with a murderer.

The shout of Baelfire's father calling his name echoed off in the distance, but he paid his father's voice no heed as he ran on. Nearing the end of the forest's pathway Baelfire tripped over a loose branch and stumbled out onto the main road that led away from the village, just in time to see the large hoofs of a jet black horse bearing down on him with a loud, "Bray!"

"Ah!" Baelfire screamed, causing the rider to back up his horse with a tug on the stallion's reins.

"Sorry mister, excuse me sir," Baelfire told the rider that sat on the horse's back, before backing into one of the several soldiers that were riding at a steady pace beside their captain.

"What have we here?" asked Trevor, a large muscular soldier with numerous scars and a patch over one eye, as he bent downward from his steed's back, and gripped the boy's arms. Trevor's nails began to dig into the soft exposed flesh as he examined Bae's features. "Not much of a fighter Captain, the mouse has got barely any meat on him. Bet he wouldn't do your brother much good in the org wars."

"It doesn't matter what good any boy would or wouldn't do my brother," John retorted, "our orders are to take anyone who is 14 years of age who is able to fight and hasn't served their time. So bag him up and we can get on with our return trip."

"Aye Captain," responded Trevor as he climbed off his horse. At that moment Baelfire bit down into Trevor's arm, his teeth breaking through the skin, causing Trevor to let go with a loud yowl. "I changed my mind, Captain, the boy isn't a mouse at all; he's a bloody lion.

Now free from Trevor's grasp, Baelfire made a dash for the woods to where freedom lay, in the hopes that he could lose the men who were trying to take him captive. However, he was stopped by a man on horseback who blocked his escape.

Captain John Worthington Foulfellow, a man in his early 60's, could best be described as being tall and lanky looking, with legs that were so long it was a wonder that he could even fit them into his horse's stirrups at all. Tumbling out of his head was a wild mane of long reddish brown hair that hung over his shoulders. Fierce brown eyes with flecks of gold in the irises reminded the boy all too much of a red fox, as John Foulfellow stared intently at him.

"So you're a fighter, hey? Well that's good," spoke John as he reached down and cupped Baelfire's head in his hand. "My brother, the Duke of the Front Lands, sent me to collect more men for his army; he could use a spirited soldier like you who's willing to do whatever it takes to stay alive."

Baelfire spied John's sword; grabbed it, and cut the horse's girth, causing John to fall off his horse and land on the ground in a cluttered heap. "Get away from me!" Baelfire shouted as he clumsily swung the sword in front of him, determined to defend himself from John, the conniving canine that sought to drag him off to an ill determined fate.

John picked himself up as he dusted the dirt off his cloak and the dark blue armor that he wore bearing the image of a silver fox on the chest plate, "Come on boy we're just trying to help. Do you honestly know how to use that thing?" asked John as he snapped his fingers, commanding his soldiers into action, "Get him, but try not to kill him."

Baelfire tried at first to fight off the soldiers, with John's sword raised to defend himself. Since the soldiers were far more experienced in the ways of combat, he soon tired out. Two soldiers, one on each side of the boy, grabbed him around his back and forced him on bended knees against the ground, while the sword was knocked from his hands and clattered to the ground with a gentle twang.

With the boy now in confinement, the rest of the soldiers, including Trevor, backed off as their captain approached.

Looking Baelfire directly in the eyes, John said "Well not bad boy. Nice try."

In response Baelfire sent forth a load of spit at John Foulfellow with the intent of hitting him in the face. Unfortunately, the spit missed John's face and fell to the ground, forming a small puddle on the dirt covered road.

"Good, I can see that you're angry at me. Well you should be. After all I'm about to be the one responsible for taking your freedom away from you. So hold onto that hate." said John as he took up some dust from the pouch at his side and blew it into Baelfire's face.

Almost instantly Baelfire's eyes began to droop as he sunk toward the ground, his world turning dark.

"After all I want you hate me," said John as he removed Baelfire's cloak and propped him up on Titan's back. The boy slumped forward, so that his head lay resting against the reins, ears, and dark main of the black stallion.

"Excuse me sir, but won't someone come after us when they find him gone?" Tim, one of the soldiers, a young boy with sandy blond hair asked, his voice filled with dread and worry.

"Not if he's dead," answered John, unsheathing the dagger that lay at his side and slashing it across Baelfire's cheek, where a small stream of blood started to form, and flow down the side of the boy's face, glistening brightly against the boy's cream colored flesh.

Baelfire winced slightly in his sleep, but otherwise he did not stir.

John placed the Baelfire's cloak against his cheek to stop the blood from flowing and wiped his dagger clean before returning it to its sheath.

"And how are you going to do that, Captain, without actually killing him?" Tim asked.

"Well Tim," answered John as he tore the stained red cloak before walking over to a ledge, flicking of his wrist and sending the cloak over the mountain's edge. The cloak landed on the rocks below where it was picked up by the stream. "By doing that" John grinned, "Come on let's get going," He picked up his sword and sheathed it before jumping onto Titan's back and heading off.

Tim picked up John's saddle before following after the captain.

As Captain John Worthington Foulfellow and his crew headed off, large black clouds rolled in. Down from the sky came buckets of rain, washing away the smells and tracks of all who had been involved in Bae's plight.

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**Please leave your reviews, comments, questions, and concerns in the box below but no spam or flames please and thanks. **


	2. Enter the Stranger

**This chapter was originally longer but at three pages in words document and from experience I have begun to realize that it works better if I make chapter's shorter especially since the next part would focus heavily on August and having a look at into too many character's subconscious or whatever you what to call this style of writing, in ta sort of third person past tense point of view can be a lot to take for some people. So I decided to end the chapter here.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time.**

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**Chapter 1; Enter the Stranger**

**Storybrooke, Maine **

Emma Swan the savior of Storybrooke although she didn't know it yet, was now guilty of lying to the only person in the world who mattered most to her. And who was this person? Why it was her only child, Henry, who not more than a moment ago came up to her asking about his father.

Ordinarily Emma would have told Henry the truth about his father as good people are prone to do. But, you see Henry's father was not a good man and he had hurt her. If there is one thing that could be said that when people are hurt by other people, particularly in the way Emma had been hurt by Garrison Kurtz, they tend to not like to talk about it. Even more so, if they are someone like Emma Swan who had spent years building up walls to keep people out after Garrison had hurt her.

It was for that reason that Emma told Henry the false story that his father was a firefighter who died while saving a family from their burning house. If only to prevent Henry from the danger of his father should Garrison ever discover he existed or that Henry would ever decide to go looking for his father.

For the truth as she well knew was much harsher. Garrison had not been a firefighter or even a hero in any sense of the word. In fact if one word could be applied to Mr. Garrison Kurtz, a 50-year-old accountant from Buffalo, New York it was that he was a dick.

He was also a womanizer and a cheater to add to the list of words that Emma would describe him as.

At the time of Emma and Garrison meeting the man had never mentioned in all their time together that he had a wife at home. That he was cheating on said wife by being with Emma, or that she was only one in a long line of mistresses that he had gotten pregnant and then bribed to keep their traps shut. It had all of course come to a head with Emma, one fateful night eleven years ago, when Emma came to his house looking for him only to find Karen his wife answering the door.

A week later she had dumped him, only by this time her ex-boyfriend had decided that he liked her too much to let her go. Instead drunk partly with rage, and with alcohol the man who was 32 years older than her and twice her weight in pounds had forced himself on Emma as she was trying to get into her car after her shift. By the time her boss had showed up to rescue her and contacted the police to arrest Garrison, it was already too late, the damage done, and several weeks later in the bathroom of a stingy hotel Emma would find the pregnancy stick she held tightly in her grasp flashing two red lines across the screen.

It was for this reason alone that Emma didn't have the heart to tell Henry who and what kind of man his father was. He already had a thief for a mother, she told herself; 'my son doesn't need a douche for a father as well.'

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It was now later in the day, or more like night as could be seen by the moon that hung high in the sky and the few street lamps that lit the once busy street, where only a few cars parked. It was against her police cruiser that Emma and Henry stood.

"It was pumpkin pie, right?" Henry asked handing over a container that she had no doubt came from Granny's which was just up the road from them.

"Yay," she answered even though it was just one more part to the false story that she had told Henry.

Because Garrison, never really cared about what kind of pie the dinner where she had worked served. He just cared that they served it. But, even though it was a lie, for some reason she couldn't understand in the back of her mind it felt like the one truth in the fabrication that she had made up about Henry's father. It felt to her just as real as the swan necklace that she always wore around neck, just another item from her past that she kept. The only problem was she could never remember exactly how she had gotten the thing in the first place, it was just there. For some reason, she didn't question it.

"Hey is this Storybrooke?" a voice spoke up snapping her out of her thoughts.

Emma looked up to see who had spoken the voice belonged to a figure who stood parked a few meters away from her and Henry. His legs and butt straddling an early model of motorcycle, possible a Harley if the general build of the bike, was any indication.

The clothing he had on was mostly all black and leather, including the gloves that clenched tightly to the handle bars of the motorcycle. As he removed himself from the bike and his helmet before making his way over to Emma, the light from the nearby lamps cast their glow on his figure.

Emma could see that the man approaching her was a male Caucasian, who was tall and lean with dark brown or was it black hair cropped short and was sort of ragged looking much like the beard and mustache that cover the lower part of his face.

He was hansom in way Emma would admit and not in the charming princely kind either, like that of the prince from Disney's Snow White and the Seven Dwarf which had been one of the few movies she had gotten to see growing up and one of her favorites. No if anything his rugged appearance complete with a pair of unusual florescent blue looking eyes, which reminded her of the glow that came from the rare blue moons that occasionally would allow the night sky the honor of being graced with their presents. Gave him an air of mystery and made her think of another character made popular by Disney, Robin Hood.

"Yes, it is. Why?" Emma answered back somewhat confused that he knew the name of the town, even though Henry had told her that no one ever came or left. But, then again he could have just seen the sign along the town's boundary that said 'Welcome to Storybrooke' in big bold letters. The only problem Emma remembered suddenly, was that there was no way he could have seen the sign because she crashed into it while trying to avoid hitting a mythical wolf that no one besides her or Graham believed was real.

"Just, making sure I found the right place that's all. You wouldn't happen to know of any place I can get a room around here?" the stranger asked.

"You're staying?" Henry seemed to pipe up with his own question at the stranger's statement that an outsider would be spending some time here in the cursed town which he had grown up in, and the only one from the Enchanted Forest that was able to leave or enter, being the savior and all, was his birth mother.

But was it possible that someone else knew about the curse, someone like this man who had appeared out of know where. Also, if this stranger did know about the curse, then, could he be trusted as friend or foe? Henry wondered.

"That's the plan just looking for a bed," the stranger replied to Henry's statement.

"Granny's is just up the road," Emma interrupted pointing her finger in the general direction of where the bed and breakfast sat, and the only place to offer rooms to outsiders in this small town, she had come to consider her home.

"Thanks," He gave Emma a smile and nod before turning around and walking back to where his bike lay parked along the opposite curb on the street. He fixed his helmet in place once more over his head, and the strap securely in place, before climbing on the seat of the motorcycle and kicking up the stand with the edge of his boots, with just one forward thrust of his feet and legs.

"Hey wait; I didn't catch your name?" Emma shouted as she watched the man's retreating form.

"That's because I didn't give it," the stranger smiled before kicking his bike into gear, and leaving Henry and Emma in the same place they had stood when he first showed up on his Harley, under the glaring beam of the street lights.

"Henry," Emma asked as she turned towards her son, with confusion on her face. "I thought you said strangers don't come to story book?"

"They don't," Henry answered. However, that didn't mean he didn't plan on figure out who this stranger was and what he was doing in Storybrooke. And from the look on his mother's face he had a hunch that she would be doing the very same thing.

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**To be continued**


	3. Coming Home

**Underboss- the second in command of a mafia group, they traditionally run the day to day affairs of a mafia. If the acting boss or Don is sick, killed, or in jail they will take over as Don. **

**Consigliere- is the Don's right hand man and his advisor charged with making sure the bosses plans go ahead without a hitch. **

**Don- the leader of a mafia group has near or absolute control of his subordinates.**

**Yes the Booth family is an American Mafia group, in the early stages of brainstorming for this story which was many months ago the idea came to me and just seemed to fit. After all I had already decided that Brandon who has no relation to Merlin in my other story was August brother. That Brandon has a body guard do to various reasons and that their are a host of other characters that live on the premises of were August lived before leaving storybrooke as will be scene later on. I also felt that it fit his nature as a character and his background in this story. So while mafia groups in America are typically italian, as it will become apparent later on that will not be the standard for the mafia families that make up this story.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own OAUT and make no profit from this. **

**Chapter 2: Coming Home**

**Storybrook Maine**

Home, was a word August Wayne Booth could finally say now that he was back in Storybrooke after twelve long years of being away from it.

Not, that anyone in the town had been aware that he had ever left in the first place all those years ago. Because the second he had crossed the town line his very existence, had disappeared from the memory of all but a few members of the town. The only people who still remembered that he had once been a resident of this town included, his older brother Brandon Booth and the rest of the men and women, which made up the members of his families mafia group.

Where did August Wayne Booth fall along the line of the members of his family's mafia? Why he was the second in command, the underboss, as was a fitting position for the only other son of Mr. and Mrs. Peter Hunter Booth.

Although Henner Anderson, the Red Dragon Wolf and his brother's consigliere, had temporarily filled in the position at his behest, while he was away.

It was something that often plagued his mind how his family and extended members weren't impacted by the consequences of his own curse. But, when it came to the curse that had remained on this town for the past 28 years, so that time never passed, all their happy endings were ripped from them, and they couldn't leave the town aside or bad things would happen to him. August was the only one from this forsaken town that was aware of the curse, except for the women who cast it, Regina and that imp of the Dark One, Rumpelstiltskin.

Not that the people who lived here had lives that were any worse off than they'd been in the Enchanted Forest, in fact for some they were better, which is why August had never understood having the happy ending ripped from you part. After all what happy ending did he have before the curse sent him to Storybrooke, not a good one he could tell anyone that much based on the scars, one would see all over his skin if they were to remove his clothing.

But either way the curse needed to be broken and it was August's job to do so, well actually it was the savior's daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, Emma's job to save everyone. It was just his job to find Emma, watch over her, and above all make sure no harm would come to the savior while she trying to break the curse. All in all it didn't sound too difficult right August thought to himself.

Well it wouldn't be that difficult if he had actually found the girl a voice echoed in his head, but he quickly squashed it back down before it could take root in his mind.

Because the reality was that he had never found the Princesses Emma in all the twelve years he had spent outside of Storybrooke. No instead what he had found was hope and love, after he had gotten side tract from his original goal of finding the princess. He had fallen in love, and hard only to have it squashed in front of him as reality set in and fate took the one person in the world that mattered most from him, and mad her forget him, like so many others that had ever come into his life.

Leaving him with only the memory of her touch including the last words August had ever heard from her but was unable to answer, "August, please come back. August don't leave me!" While he hid from her sight and tears fell down his cheeks.

For the many years following he had spent it trying to find her, with little success, beyond the newspaper article that told him she about her arrest, an officers confirmation her release some years later, that it was none of his damn business about what had happened to the child she was pregnant with, and a deal with Nicholas who August seemed to think knew more than he was letting on about the women and child he was trying to find. All this had left him with a bitter taste in his mouth and re-sealed the ice walls and dark chains around his heart that had been in place before he met his true love.

His life of traveling from place to place was all but a month ago. That was until he awoke one morning to find that Nicholas had left him a message on his cellphone, informing August that the savior had come to Storybrooke and it was time for him to fulfil his end of their bargain and help Emma. After all, it had been 28 years which meant one thing and one thing only the savior had returned.

The only problem that remained for August was finding this supposed savior among the thousands of residents of this cursed town. Considering the only two clues he had to go on aside from her age was who her parents were and her first name. Nicholas had neglected to mention anything about what Emma looked like or her temperament, giving him little to work with if he was to earn a complete strangers trust.

The other problem August faced was not having any of the major resources he had when leaving the town. Because even though he was now technically home, it didn't mean he could go home to the Booth Family Manor on 7 Cabbage Patch Run, Storybrooke, ME 00923. After all, it would look suspicious to everyone else in this town especially Regina if a mere stranger had roots to plant. Two, it left him temporarily without the backup of his brother and the rest of the family to fall back on should trouble rear its ugly head. Thirdly, there was his disorder which could make things difficult at times. Finally, he wondered who the young woman, with blond hair, that now appeared to be the sheriff of Storybrooke was.

There was something familiar about her, despite their brief meeting together, and that he didn't remember her being a resident of this town when he left. Could she be the savior he was supposed to be looking for? Then there was the added inclusion of the kid that had stood at her feet. A kid who August didn't recognize either and wondered just whose kid he was.

But, since he hadn't gotten either of their names he only had speculation to go on. Then again he hadn't given Emma, if it even was her, his name either.

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**To be continued**


	4. A Brush with Wolves

**Catoptrophobia: fear of mirrors or of one's own reflection**

**Disclaimer: I do not own OUAT**

**For this and future chapters all things occurring in the time in which the chapter takes place are in regular font. **

**While dreams, visions, and ****flashbacks will be in italics. **

**Next chapter will be going back into the past. Originally these first couple of chapter with Emma and August was meant to be one big long chapter. But on going threw it and making corrections and also from experience of working on one of my other stories, a Sherlock fanfiction called like father like son, I realized it would be easier to correct it and for my readers to digest if I split it up into three parts of about 1,000 to 2,000 words each then to have one big long chapter that is 5,000 words or more. Well on with the show or fanfiction as they say.**

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**Chapter 3:** **A Brush with Wolves**

**Storybrooke, Maine**

August slowed his bike to a crawl as he came aside the familiar white cottage with a sign over the entrance that bared the words Granny's Inn in bold lettering. Well the place certainly hadn't changed much and why would it with time having been frozen these past 28 years.

After hiding his bike in some foliage where he knew it wouldn't be disturbed, removing the key, tucking his helmet under one arm, slinging his bag over one shoulder, gripping a wooden box in one hand, and checking to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, August move him and his parcels of stuff up the path way to Granny's Inn. The late night owl that watched him from its perch on the building's roof thought he made an interesting figure with his many items clinging to his various limbs as he walked.

The building that August entered was somewhat dark save for one light that hung over the empty desk. Luckily for him his eyesight was better than most and he managed to avoid causing too much noise as he made his way to the front desk.

"Hello is anyone here I would like to rent a room?" August shouted into the darkness. Getting no answer he laid his helmet and box on the desk before pressing his hand down on the bell labeled please ring for service. Pressing down on the bell once he waited for a few second. However, when no one showed signs of appearing behind the desk he started ringing it repeatedly.

With a sharp, "whack," August pulled his hand backwards as suddenly felt a dull tingling sensation on the back of his hand. The pain on his hand while it hurt was minimal and could have been worse had he not been wearing the thick pair of black cowhide gloves that he owned.

"Would you cut that out people are trying to sleep!" Granny an elderly woman, with gray hair set down the umbrella she was carrying and looked at him from over the counter's edge. "Know what is it you want?"

"I would like to rent a room," August told her even though it was blatantly obvious. Why else would he be standing in Granny's Inn at midnight.

"A room let me see what I have available," Granny replied opening the big book on the table before her and scattering dust everywhere.

The dust caused August to let out a loud, sneeze which he caught with the end of his coat sleeve.

"Bless you. Here we are." Granny glanced at the front page where August could see only one other name written in black handwriting. It was only a few months old so the ink had yet to start to fade, allowing him to make out the name as clear as day, Emma Swan. He felt something between the feeling of confusion and a heavy brick being dropped into his gullet.

August was so busy trying to sort through the rambles and question in his mind, that he almost missed Granny asking for his name.

"Booth," He simply supplied.

"Well welcome to Storybrooke Mr. Booth and how long will you be staying with us?" Granny answered, handing him over one of the keys from off of the rack behind her and pointed to blank spot on the page, "sign here."

With a flourish from his left hand in fingers he quickly wrote Booth. "Don't know and thanks he replied taking the key from Granny's outstretched hand.

The key August notice was unlike any of the other keys he could make out on the wall behind the inn's front desk. Whereas most of the keys looked brand new, the key he held looked old with bits of rust clinging to the bottom. The image that adorned the keys face wasn't an animal, but instead a large tree stood amidst the background of stained glass frame. Thick vines spreading from the tree's trunk wrapped around a double-edged sword, while a small fairy rested peacefully against one of the tree's larger branches. Finally a full blue moon and three balls of light one black, one red, and one white with feathered wings darted throughout the night sky.

_Wings he had wings right, big ones once, three pairs of them in fact, white, red and black. No he still had them he just couldn't use them, because. Because why. It didn't matter all he knew was that the white ones weren't so white anymore. No now they were grey and broken. While the smell of death clung all around him and the sounds of screams kept on ringing in his year. Chanting over and over broken, why were his wings' broken?_

"Booth?" a voice shouted snapping him out of it and causing the scene before him to change from an image of wings and blood to that of pitch blackness except for one light and the old granny that stood before him.

"Huh, what," August blinked his eyes to see Granny impatiently standing with her waiting hand outstretched.

Granny repeated, "I said that'll be $50 for the month with a complementary breakfast included unless you've changed your mind and you no longer want the room.

"No, I want it." August reached into his pocket for his check book. "Nicholas you owe me he grumbled," under his breath low enough that he was pretty sure the elderly woman couldn't hear.

"Cash only, for the rent no credit cards and no check, and before you ask it on account of Mr. Gold, who owns the town, because he's very punctual about when he gets his money for the month."

Well there went most of the cash he had on hand and nearly all of his pay check for the week. Looks like it would be coffee and peanut butter sandwiches for lunch and dinner for a while. Slipping two twenties and a ten into the offered hand, August watched as she snatched back his cash and drop into the register, with a loud, "caching."

Grabbing his items and key in hand he made his way up the steps with a clump and rattle. As he was walking along the hallway August was nearly knocked over by a red blur.

"Here let me help you," offered a young women with reddish-brown hair, who smelled like a wolf, and August wasn't really in the mood to talk to. He was after all laden down with stuff and just wanted to get to his room and go to bed or at least try to fall asleep. The less people he had to deal with now the better, considering this was one of those moments when he wasn't in the mood.

"Thanks I'm good," August readjusted the helmet under his arm as he reached for his keys but had a hard time getting them into the door with all the stuff he was carrying. Setting down his pile for a moment he wiggled the door knob to room 2 open. The room he found himself in held a queen size bed, perfect having someone of the opposite sex spend the night with him. Not that he would be doing anything of the sort anytime soon. A large dresser with a mirror sat against the left wall near the windows that overlooked the town's asphalt streets down below. A cupboard sat tucked away in the far corner near a wooden desk, and finally there was an opened door which led into the bathroom, complete with a toilet, sink, bathtub, and another mirror.

"Well do you like it, oh I'm Ruby by the way my Granny owns the Inn."

"Booth," August supplied as he finished giving it a good look, before telling the girl just what he thought of the room. "You don't happen to have any rooms without mirrors in it?"

"No we don't, why do you ask?" Ruby cocked her eyes to the side with wonder at the unusual request.

"I have Catoptrophobia you know the fear of mirrors they kind of make me edgy give me the feeling that's someone's watching me." By someone August meant the Evil Queen, even though he didn't really have to worry about Regina using her magic mirror to spy on him. Because a she didn't know who he was and b there wasn't any magic in Storybrooke. However, that didn't mean August wasn't going to take precautions. Who knew what would happen once the savior broke the town's curse.

"Well I guess you could sleep in the garage than or I could get you some blankets to cover the mirror's faces I'll be right back Mr. Booth," Ruby dashed away leaving August to his own devices.

"Thanks," August shouted as he watched her disappear from his sigh, before deciding to take care of getting a room with no mirrors on his own. Dropping his items on the bed and then with a well-aimed punch of his gloved fists August shattered the bathroom mirror into a million pieces, before doing the same thing to the one overlooking the dresser.

Ruby was grabbing some spare sheets from the closet when she heard the shatter of glass. Running up the stairs she was just in time to find August depositing several shards of glass into a trash can. Standing there with her mouth hanging open she asked, "What happened?"

"I really needed a room without mirrors." August shrugged

"I said I'd be right back and you still decided to dismantle the ones in here?" Ruby gestured to the mirror's empty frames.

"Yay, sorry I kind of got inpatient and hey it solved the problem. This should cover some," August grunted as he removed two of the three $20 dollar bill's that remained in his wallet and placed it in Ruby's open palm. "You can take the rest out of my next month's pay." With that he slammed the door in her face.

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Ruby was in a daze as she headed down the stairs. "Granny we need to replace the mirrors in 2 again after Mr. Booth leaves."

"Why what's wrong with the mirrors in his room Ruby?"

"There are none" Ruby told her Grandmother, dropping the money that August had given her on the counter before heading off to bed.

* * *

With the mirrors good and gone, August started to unpack all of his stuff. The wooden box was the first thing he opened, removing the old dark grey type writer that it held within. Despite the thick layer of dust that covered the frame and key, he could still make out his initials A.B. and the phrase, 'Merry Christmas to the man who is extremely cheeky and who I am proud to call mine,' engraved in golden script on the left side.

The contents of the sack he carried were next and from it he removed several papers, an old book, some tools, jars of ink, several outfits, his cell phone, a wooden paper weight in the shape of a Griffin, and several other items that he owned.

It took August barely a moment to get his room all situated and everything in order. Lastly he removed his black leather, jacket and boots setting them on the empty chair against the desk. As he flipped the light switch off, the image of not one but two girls with the same name Emma Swan danced across his dimming vision.

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**To Be Continued**


	5. Before There Were Boots

**First of I would like to apologize for the long wait and second I have no excuse except to say I was being lazy. Because its one thing to have this idea in your head but another to make corrections and sort through all the different variations in your head as to different scenes in the story because believe me I have several. Also I would like to ask if anyone would be interested in a wiki of sorts to go along with this story? Because I no keeping track of a lot of characters can become confusing after a while. Basically information will be included as it becomes available to the readers and I would update it about a month or so after each chapter update to Double Edged becomes available. **

**For Example**

Trevor: second in command under Captain John Worthington Foulfellow has a eye patch over one eye and multiple scars.

Titan: John's large black stallion

Tim: a soldier under John's command he is very timid in nature

John Worthington Foulfellow: A caption in the Duke of the Front Lands Army

Boy: a child on the run from his father

Nicholas: A mysterious contact from outside Storybrooke who is slightly in fishy in nature. August believes he is hiding something from him.

**Disclaimer: I do not own OUAT**

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**Chapter 4; Before There Were Boots**

**Enchanted Forest, 300 years before the curse**

Baelfire's head hurt as he tried to adjust to the darkness, his hands rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes. He had no sense of what day it was, time, or even where he was for that matter. The last thing he could remember was fighting against Caption John Foulfellow and his soldiers before slipping into unconscious.

"It hurts for a while but eventually the pain will go away," said a voice that seemed come from above him. The Baelfire looked up trying to figure out where the figure that the voice belonged to was, when he saw it. Sitting up above him amid the faint glow of a kerosene lamp was young 16-year-old boy.

Charles James Tabitha or Puss as he was better known by everyone in the Duke of the Frontlands army was the very image of a pussy cat. But, not in any way an alley cat type pussy, despite his slight disheveled clothing, which consisted of brown slacks, a green scarf, and an orange and brown vest that had gained several holes from the months of consecutive wear, and a dull brown hat with a red feather that lay at an angle along his head of brightly orange and gold hair. Puss had the air of a leader about him. Someone who was cunning, smart, and a bit of trickster at times if need be.

Puss swung the lamp he was holding back and forth as his legs dangled off the end of one of several rafter beams that held the building's ceiling up.

"Okay." The Baelfire grunted because his head hurt and the poor lighting from Puss's lamp was only making it worse. Sleep that was he really needed was more sleep, as sleep always helped him before when he wasn't feeling well. Baelfire turned over so that his back was to the light, before trying to fall back to sleep.

However, Puss didn't seem to take the hint to leave the Baelfire alone. "My guess is they gave you the sleeping stuff to knock you out and to make it easier for them to kidnap you?" Standing up and moving across the roof's beam, the light from the lamp traveling with him.

"Well that explains why my head hurts; the fox used sleeping dust on me." Baelfire figured from his place on the floor.

"Well that would make you a fighter then. Because you see that's who they always use the sleeping dust on. However, the cowards and frightened ones are easy enough for John and his crew to tie up and throw over their horse's back. Then of course there are also always the chosen few who go along willingly, mostly because they're trying to run from something, or someone. While finally there are guys like us, the fighters, the ones who try to make a run for it. They knock us out to make it easier for them to take us. Course once the stuff wears off that's when it starts to feel like you've been run over by a horse's hoofs. So, since they did it to you I guess then you're a fighter?" questioned Puss before moving down one of the wooden support beams the lamp clenched between his teeth.

Baelfire shrugged, "I guess so. What about you?" He turned over after deciding that Puss wasn't going to let him get any sleep because with his persistent chattering. This left him with no choice but to converse with the wayward boy. Who until a moment ago had sat on the roof before taking his current place on one of the floor's hay bales, his legs crossed and his arms at his side.

Baelfire blinked his eyes for a moment before asking, "Puss, how did you get down from there?"

"Same way as I go up kid, I climbed down which is simple enough when you're a were-cat."

Sure enough Baelfire noticed that Puss's had a pair of pointed ears and an orange tail that twitched about behind him. "Now am I a fighter you ask, why you might say it just so happens that I'm the best fighter in this army kid. Why I've been in the box more times than anyone else." He said slapping his legs with the palm of his hands.

"Pardon me, but you don't mean that they actually stick you into a box as punishment. How would you even fit into a box?" Baelfire wondered even as his mind started to conjure the mental picture of Puss's large frame rammed inside a tiny wooden box, with his large ears and tail hanging over the rims. He could just image the moody look the were-cat would probably have on his face, as Captain John Worthington Foulfellow tried to rearrange his limbs so that Puss would actually fit into the box.

"Wait you don't think that when I say the box. I'm talking about an actual crate do you?".

"Well maybe," Baelfire answered Puss with uncertainty after thinking about how ridiculous the idea really sounded.

"Good heaven's boy!" Puss exclaimed as he let out a loud chuckle at Baelfire's expense.

Baelfire letting out a loud huff said, "It's not funny!" because he really didn't think it was, nor did he like the fact that this were-cat was laughing at him for his simple mistake.

"Sorry, about that mate I forgot that you're new here, so you're not really on the up and up when it comes to military talk. The box is the cell or dungeon that Caption Foulfellow uses to put the troubler makes, when they don't do what they're told. The way the fox figures, a night alone in the box will make us think about are actions and turn us into fine obedient soldiers of his army. In other words he is hoping the box will cause us to crack. Even though it has never worked on me, Puss Felidae, but you can call me Puss" the were cat replied extending his hand to the boy.

Baelfire hesitantly offered Puss his own hand to shake as he introduced himself, "It's a pleasure to meet you Puss I'm…" or at least he tried to before a hand suddenly wrapped around his mouth cutting of his words.

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**To be continued**


	6. Seeds of Vengeance

**Well here it is I was able to go back and correct another one of the chapter. Chronological the two chapters are currently taking place in my interpretation of the events before Rumple activates his curse Enchanted Forest 300 years ago and the present area of when Emma is in Storybrook to break the curse, 2011-2012 until eventually the two time frames will meet up at some point. So as of know certain characters from Storybrooke will not be appearing in the Enchanted forest or vice versa. ****However, eventually I will get in touch with all of the character's past I am just doing things chronological in order for the most part with past events although their are a few time skips changes here and there in latter chapters.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own once upon a time or the few lyrics I borrowed from the song Honest John from Disney's Pinocchio.**

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**Enchanted Forest 300 years ago before Rumplestiltskin's Curse is cast**

**Chapter 5: Seeds of Vengeance**

"Don't tell him your real name. That's what you were about to tell him?" Lupus a tall boy with light brown hair dressed in a ragged brown shirt, black pants, and a reddish-brown clock with a hood appears from the darkness of the barn clamping his hands down over the Baelfire's mouth cutting him off before he can utter his own name.

With a slight backward thrust of his elbows Baelfire hit Lupus' in the chest causing the were-dog to let out a mournful howl as stumble backwards from the wind being knocked out of him.

Baelfire turned to where Lupus was trying to catch his breath. His arms crossed as he directs his next comment at Lupus, "what's wrong with my name I was just being polite. Puss told me his name so why shouldn't I tell him my name?"

"No reason, except if you're looking to lose control of yourself. Because as anyone with a brain knows that names have power and when you tell someone your real name that's when you allow them to have power of you. My advice to you, use a fake name an alias like Puss and the rest of us. This way the only one around with power over you is yourself. Because unless you want to end up like Gideon over there," said Lupus' pointing to an older boy of about 23 years, with dirty blond hair, blue eyes, a floppy gray hat, and clothes that were much too big for him. "I suggest you keep who you really are to yourself and you can call me Lupus Bloodhound."

Sitting in the far corner by himself Gideon remained deeply focused on his present task as he thumbed quietly through an old book. To many of those in the army save for his Uncle John, though that Gideon Foulfellow the eldest son and heir to the Duke of the Frontlands was odd, or not worth their time. But, if the rest of the men had bothered to pay closer attention to him, or the book he was reading, they might have noticed that Gideon was actually very smart. Considering the book he was skimming through was a guide to poisons plants, diseases, curses, and their cures.

"Why, what's wrong with him? He looks like he's enjoying himself" replied Baelfire.

"While he may look fine in appearance boy, his voice has a bit of a problem," said Lupus.

"His voice, what's the matter with it?" Baelfire asked Lupus.

"Nothing, except Gideon doesn't have one, you see that's what happens when you divulge your name or let Honest John get to you like poor Gideon did," Lupus told the boy. "You're voice gets ripped out of your mouth literally. So if you don't want to lose your ability to speak. Keep your real name to yourself."

"Okay, but just one question Lupus and Puss who is Honest John?"

"You got to be kidding me? You seriously don't know who Honest John is? Right, of course you don't you were just brought to the Duke's Camp yesterday," Lupus replied from where he was leaning against the wall. "Why Honest John is the captain who brought you here. But trust me when I say this there's nothing honest about that sly dog. He's nothing but a dishonest fox. Which is why this is the perfect little ditty to describe him, Ben, Kate, and Cock if you would be so kind please?" Amid the darkness of the room, the sound of music came as Ben, Kate, and Cock began to strike up the tune to their little ditty about the Caption, while Lupus opened his mouth to sing, and Puss silently taped his feet in time creating a beat for the four musicians to play by.

**Honest John, they call him Honest John**

**But I wouldn't touch him as far as I could through an elephant over my shoulder,**

**Through a curve with a ten ton boulder.**

**Honest John, look out for Honest John. **

Baelfire listened to the rest of the lyrics, as Lupus described the Caption being honest by reputation alone, when in fact Honest John was a dishonest crook.

"Any old-time that anything is gone," said Lupus sucking in a large mouth full of air, before letting out in one last loud shriek that made the tip of the boy's ears stand on end, the words "look for Honest John…."

"So as long as you just stick with Lupus, Ben, Cock, my sister Kate and me, you'll be just fine boy," said Puss once the song had ended.

Baelfire simply nodded his head.

"Good. So what should we call you? We can't keep referring to you as boy all the time." Examining Baelfire up and down with a watchful stair, Puss tried to come up with a suitable name that would fit the lad.

"How about you call him mouse, Puss at least this way he'd fit right in along with your animal names." Cecil Coachmen spoke up from where he sat in the far corner twirling a wooden pipe in his hand.

"Oh shut up Coach, at least our names have creativity and character; yours just comes from your last name, Coachmen…" Putting effuses on Cecil's last name to aggravate him further. "Besides it's not like Honest John doesn't already know your real name, is Cecil Coachmen!"

Whether it being told to shut up, having his birth name used by a lowly peasant, or the many years of disrespect that this were-cat had continued to show towards him, Cecil's face turned a lived red. Getting up off the floor, Cecil slammed into his rival with the full force of his body.

Puss not one to lay there and let Cecil beat him to a pulp returned each one of Cecil's blows with one of his own.

Baelfire to avoid the raining punches and a fire from starting, hung Puss's discarded lantern on a hook out of range from the two boy's blows. This did not prevent one of Cecil's stray punches from hitting him in the stomach, causing him to wince at the hard blow delivered to his lower abdomen.

Baelfire let out a loud growl as he knocked Cecil over before the older boy could realize what was happening.

"Get him off me!" Cecil shouted as Puss moved out-of-the-way.

It was at that moment that the door suddenly slammed open shedding light into the storage shed and on the two figures engaged in a scuffle on the hay covered floor.

"What's going on?!" shouted John as he saw Cecil and the new kid he had brought in going at each other's throats. "Break it up you two" John said placing his hand between Baelfire and Cecil to stop their all-out war with one another. "You can hate each other all you want, but use your words instead of your fits, those you save for the ogres you hear?"

"Yes, sir" both boys answered despite the fact they were glaring angrily at one another and Cecil now held his hands around his neck trying to stop the bit of blood that was flowing from an open scratch on his neck courtesy of his enemies' fingernails.

Good. Boy since your new I'll cut you some slack just this once and leave you with a warning instead. Cecil I expected better from you. As punishment you can forget about breakfast for today and I hope that scar teach you a lesson not to do it again. Come on, let's have the doctor take a look at the wound, before you bleed to death," taking Cecil by the arm John dragged him out through the doors and into the light.

"You'll pay for this all off you!" Cecil shouted as John dragged him through the barn's open doors.

Everyone left in the barn's eyes were wide open except for Gideon, who had followed his Uncle and Cecil out of the barn, and Baelfire.

"Well at least now we know what to call you," Puss chuckled as he placed a hand on Baelfire's shoulder, "Cat."

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**Has anybody seen the trailer to the new Avengers movie if you listen real close in the background you can hear a much creepy version of I've got no strings from Disney's Pinocchio. It adds a whole level of creepy to the song.**

**To be continued **


	7. Of Dreams and Rings

This chapter is short only because the next it was originally so very long and as I was editing it ended up getting longer. So for my sanity's sake I have decided to split it up making this the proper length for this chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time

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**Chapter 6; Of Dreams and Rings**

**Storybrooke, Maine **

Dreams, his were fleeting as he lied in that moment between being asleep and awake and although his dreams were nothing but fantasies brought on by his subconscious mind, they seem very real. Except for those few moments when they were. Then, they became nightmares._ A face it stands there unclear and hidden beneath a distorted fog and so does the voice. Though one thing was certain, that the voice was cruel and it belonged to a woman. Red hands cupped August's chin as she stroked his neck before whispering into his ears "no one is coming to find you because your unwanted, unloved, and above all a mistake." Then there was the burning of his flesh as she sears the letters of his name against his heart so that he can never forget it no matter how many aliases he may use to cover it up. The scene changed and August screamed in pain as over and over, silver whips descended upon his back splattering the once grey floor and wall with bright red dots. The sound of growls, screams, of teeth, and claws echoed in the background admits what sounded like a cannon being fired off, as August's hurled forth once again from the world of slumber, dreams, and nightmares into that of the living._

August opened his eyes to find it was still dark outside and the clock on the nightstand displaying the time as 12:00pm flashed up above him. The word up and not across would be a sufficient descriptive word in that the writer was no longer lying in his bed but on the floor tangled in his bedspreads. The sound of a cannon going off was the thud August had made as he tumbled out of his bed taking his covers with him. Because when one has a nightmare in the middle of the night staying in the bed is usually the least of their concern. Despite all the sheets being ripped off the mattress the two pillows, by some feet had managed to not land on the floor with him.

Beads of sweat coated his hair leaving it matted in several places and the socks he forgot to remove last night felt like glue against his feet. He knows that the Sandman was far from returning for the rest of the night and so he takes to the mahogany desk that his room offers. It is under the light of the moon that pours in through the opened window and the glow of a desk lamp that he takes a pencil to paper, the hand of a writer and artist marred by the small callous along the ring finger of his left hand making lines of different length, shade, and texture as they bring an image to life. The clock meanwhile ticks on. By mornings first light the sun's rays found August passed out at the deck the image of a woman in red with no face drawn on the piece of paper laying beneath his head. It was this woman who has haunted his dreams for years as she silently whispered 'off with their heads'.

* * *

August's awakens to the sound of a woodpecker hammering away at the bark of a tree as it openly mocks his attempt to sleep in late. A matter that wasn't helped by last's nights restless sleep filled with hazy memories of his haunting past, which had only gotten worse now that he was back in Storybrooke.

August yawns taking stock of himself as he noticed his odder was like that of a wet dog. Taking a quick shower to remove the sweat and grime of last night, August left the bathroom 15 minutes later with a fluffy towel wrapped around his waist and another rubbing through his hair. Shaking the last of the water droplets before letting the air do the rest he slaps the damp towel over the end of the desk's chair.

From the wooden drawers he selects his outfit for the day. Slipping into a pair of boxer shorts with a Dalmatian print and a black undershirt over which he puts a dark grey dress shirt with the first button undone and a pair of matching jeans. A round his neck he adds a purple bandana from which the color has all but faded turning it shade of pink, a gift given to him by an old friend, and a necklaces with a platinum chain which holds a cross with a dove on it, and a small pendant with the image of saint Augustus. His boots go on next and his gloves remain temporally on the bedside table over a small brown box with black, red, and white encrusted jewels as he attacks his otherwise messy locks of hair and beard making quick work of them with a brush, comb, razor, and the small mirror in the front of the pocket watch he always wears around his neck. From the jeweled box August removes a mental gryphon with three heads, tails, and pairs of wings each one corresponding with the colors of the jewels that adorn the box. Picking it up August holds it for a moment almost as though he was hesitant to put it on. But practicality wins out in the end as he stroked his right hand over the spine of beast that was no bigger than his thumb. With a wire of its wings the gryphon springs to life blue eyes shimmering as it saunters forward towards August ring finger coming to rest on the platinum band that lied there. In one swift move the gryphon wrapped itself over and around the band obscuring it completely from view as each mouth closed down on the corresponding tail. With one last click the wings dropped into place as the eyes grew dim once more. Finally, he slipped his leather jacket and gloves on completing the look of a bad boy with an air of mystery that the black clothing seemed to invoke as he left his abode behind for what was his first day back to the town where time had once stood still.

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To be continued


	8. Unwanted Affections

**Disclaimer: I do not own OUAT**

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**Chapter 7: Unwanted Affections **

**Storybrooke, Maine**

_Measure wealth not by the things you have, but by the things you have for which you would not take money (Russ Crosson). _

Looking in on the room August had just left, one might be surprised to see very few items cluttering his living quarters. Instead, they might aspect some who has spent years traveling the world over to have his room resemble a pig sty littered with souvenirs. Therefore, the orderliness of his room may come as a shock to most.

The fact of the matter was that August never purchased any souvenirs while going around the world on his large black Harley, Ambrose.

The motorcycle had been named Ambrose by the elder Booth, who original had chosen the name as a joke of sorts, because Ambrose and Augustus the patron saint from which his own name came from were mentor, student, and friends, but eventually the name stuck as the years wore on.

The bike was old, having been in August possession for many years, but despite the age of the bike August didn't have the heart to replace it as it had once belong to his father and was now the only thing he had to remember the old man by. For that simple reason it held sentimental value. Just as the other few treasures he held onto outside of those that were need to make a living and function among society. This was why he had no need for overpriced junk littering his living space, unlike some traveling artists.

August was gently rolling out Ambrose from its hiding spot beneath the bushes, when the sound of approaching footsteps caused his sense to become more alert. He sniffs the air his eyes and ears worry of any danger while the few hairs on the nape of his neck begin to bristle in the wind. There was no danger approaching his hinted senses told him and that it was only Ruby, who sure enough appeared around the corner standing in shorts and tank top that left little to the imagination. If little Red Riding Hood was trying to look like a slut her outfit certainty suited the part.

"We have a garage you know, it's in the back if you need to use it? Just show the guard your room key, some sort of identification, and this" Ruby tossed August a piece of paper that sad parking pass in bold letters, "so long as you have this they'll let you in and out for free. Otherwise its $20 a month for boarding that bike of yours and I don't think you can afford it for another week or two."

"Thanks I'll remember that for tonight," catching the card August pocket it away for latter before crossing his arms because he was feeling slightly intimidated by the fact that Ruby knew something about his personal financial circumstances without his permission before replying, "and how do you now I can't afford it?"

"I saw what was left in your wallet when you went to hand me those two 20 dollar bills to pay for damaging the mirrors in your room. All you've got left is one twenty, other than that you're broke."

Damn those mirrors if only August had waited for Ruby to get back with whatever it was she was going to bring him or find another way to deal with the problem, but know he had to be inpatient and think with his fists instead of his brain. It was time like these when August cursed how similar he and his father were alike in temperament and his condition at times only made it worse, both his PTSD and his curse.

"Just consider this a lone until you get back on your feet Mr. Booth." Ruby smirked and if it weren't for his feelings for another woman, the platinum band beneath his left glove, and the chains of ice and shadow around his heart that served much the same purpose as the saviors walls did around her heart, August probably would have blushed at the young waitress's second attempt at flirting with him.

As it was August ignored Ruby's advances and simply said "thank you" in the way that one person does to another before asking "Just out of curiosity Ruby do you know where I can find the sheriff to this town and what her name is along with the brown haired boy? I didn't catch their names when I ran into them last night on my bike."

"You mean Emma and Henry? Well her office is that way, but she's probably not in yet Mr. Booth. So I could show you around town instead if you would like?" Ruby offered.

"No you can't." the voice of Ruby's grandmother called saving August from an awkward situation in which he would be forced to be chaperoned by a girl who seemed to have one thing on her mind, a sentiment which August did not share with one Miss Ruby Lucas.

Granny stands by the door with her hands on her hips watching Ruby with the stranger, who her Granddaughter seems to have her eye on, but from the look in the young man's eyes Granny could see that he shared no such interest and was trying to find a way around the unwanted attention that was being directed at him. "Poor boy" she chuckled under her breath before announcing to Ruby "You've got work to do today and these table aren't going to serve themselves once costumers show up." She then turned the sign out front from closed to open and quickly jotted down the specials of the day before walking into the dinner.

"Sorry about that I guess I better get to work it was nice seeing you, Mr. Booth" Ruby waves goodbye to August before she follows her Grandmother through the doors.

August shrugs his shoulders as he climbs onto his motorcycle and kicks up the stand. Then inserting the key into the ignition and giving it a turn, August listens to the loud rumble Ambrose makes as it springs to life. Before he drove on down the road that led out of town a plan already forming in his mind of just how to get himself acquainted with a certain savior and sheriff and it would all start with a boy called Henry.

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**To be continued**


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